(no subject)
He walked through the sand and she followed closely behind softly holding his hand.
It was warm with a cool breeze coming off the water.
The sound of seagulls in the sky flowed into the sounds of the tides coming in.
They both had smiles on their faces, the kind you have when you're exactly where you want to be.
He turned around to look at her face, beautifully tanned by the summer sun, with her eyes shimmering with the reflection of the swaying water.
They found the perfect spot, and he turned to embrace her in his arms.
She was warm.
He sank to his knees and kissed her beneath her naval and looked up with a smile.
She giggled as she pushed him back and fell into his lap, pulling his arms around her chest.
The both of them gazed into the setting sun, feeling the cool wind, and hearing the ocean glide over the beach.
There was nothing to worry about, simply because they had eachother.
There was nowhere to go, because they were exactly where they wanted to be.
There was nothing to say, because their love spoke for itself.
Peace, love, stillness.
They could feel eachother's heartbeats.
They could feel eachother's warm skin.
The smell of her hair, and the way she felt safe in his arms.
Nothing more, nothing else, they have it all.
Stories can be recollections, and they can teach morals.
They can be pointless tales to entertain the ear, or they could mean the world in the hearts of men and women.
They can lift, and they can bury.
They can be totally imaginary, they can be lies, and they can be true.
But I like to think of them as reminiscing of days we haven't yet lived.
Darrell Gonzales